Inmates at Pocatello Women’s Correctional Center. Listen to the podcast in the video player above. | Courtesy Idaho Department of Correction

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POCATELLO – Between eight and 30 women gather in a small chapel for Sunday worship services at the Pocatello Women’s Correctional Center.

They’re all dressed in scrubs, ranging in color from red and orange to brown and green, signifying the unit they’ve been assigned within the prison. Not every inmate is present, but Mike Bright, the leader of a group of volunteers called to minister at the prison, tells EastIdahoNews.com those who do attend are there because they want to be.

“They can’t go anywhere, and they’re so happy to see you. They’ve committed some terrible crimes, but love radiates from those ladies,” Bright says.

Services have not been held at the center since the onset of COVID-19, but Bright describes what a typical Sunday was like prior to the outbreak.

As the religious leader asked to preside over the unit, he usually sat at the front of the group, along with other members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints from throughout the area who are assigned to minister in the Kinport Branch on a rotating basis. Kinport is the name for the congregation of female inmates.

The correctional center is a maximum-security prison, which requires Bright and his volunteers to get through four levels of security just to hold services.

“You’d go up to the front door and push a button. The guards would let you in. Then they would check us in, frisk us with a wand and then we’d go through a metal detector (before entering another door leading to a foyer),” Bright says. “Then you’d go through another door that locked behind you and you were in the prison.”

The final level of security is the doorway to the chapel – a room about 25 feet by 20 feet with a maximum seating capacity of 30 people.

Once everyone had gathered, Bright would welcome everyone in attendance and services would begin with a hymn and a prayer. Two of the volunteers would then deliver a simple message.

“It’s mostly what we feel in our heart they might need that day,” says Sally Lunceford, one of the volunteers. “You might have prepared a (message) and then the day of (the service) you’ll say, ‘That doesn’t feel right. They need to hear this.'”

Lunceford serves as the Relief Society president at the prison. In Latter-day Saint congregations, Relief Society is a class for women 18 and up. Lunceford would coordinate this class in individual units immediately following services and help with activities for the inmates throughout the week.

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‘God knows who they are’

Serving in this capacity gives Lunceford a unique opportunity to have one-on-one interaction with these women and she got to know them on a personal level. She recalls a special connection she made with one woman in particular.

“She wasn’t even a girl who came to our services a lot, but I found out her name and if I met her in the hallway, I would say ‘Hello’ and call her by name,” Lunceford says.

Lunceford says this simple gesture was a big deal to the inmate because they are typically identified by their last name at the prison.

“After that … I always made sure that I acknowledged her name,” Lunceford says. “We all need that acknowledgment that we are a person. Even though they are in that circumstance — and yes, they put themselves there — they’re still somebody and God knows who they are.”

Lunceford lost contact with the woman once the stay-home order went into effect and she has since been released from prison. Under normal circumstances, volunteers are allowed to come and say goodbye to inmates as they exit the center. Due to COVID-19, Lunceford didn’t get that cha